Peepers Creepers

I just finished listening to twenty minutes of radio broadcast, sold as coverage of the JonBenet Ramsey murder.
I am not sure when it started, or whether it is getting worse. All I can tell you, is the interface between the sensationalist media and the public, is rubbing a raw nerve in my brain.

The Press continue to press things that won't be pressed, because they think the pressure will squeeze out some ink for the press. There is no content, context or conscience.

Then there is the PR team, on the other side of the lens. They completely waste our precious public airwaves, with twenty minutes of unbroken backslapping of fellow bureaucrats, without a scant residue of useful information.

It is my understanding that this pervert put up his own red flag. Why do I have to listen to a long litany of self-congratulatory bubble wrap and packing peanuts, which will travel straight from my cochlear canal, to my brain's equivalent of the Window's trash can?

I have some news for you, Ms. Lacy. I don't care if Dunkin Joe-nuts was courageous enough to put in a couple extra hours at the city desk, to pick up a call from Ding Dong Wong from Thailand. I just don’t care about your job satisfaction. Call a press conference, when you have something relevant to offer.

When I hear this crap, I think of the Big Dig, with a similar cast of group hug hacks. Everyone walks around, bragging about their excellence, sans results.

If this guy turns out to be a hoax, I hope they give him the full jail term anyway.

Why?

Because he virtually dug up the body of a little girl, dead these nine years, and raped it again for his fifteen minutes of camera copulation. It is still an ugly crime, even in this context.


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